Beyond Emptiness
by AndeanExpat
Summary: At first, a shared enemy is the only connection between Aozaki Touko and Ryougi Shiki. Touko finds Ryougi fascinating, to put it mildly; Ryougi finds her employer eccentric. Will Garan no Dou's latest case bring the two of them together, or will their differences drive them apart? Mild AU. Rated M for Nasuverse violence and yuri themes.
1. Chapter 1

May 1998: Prologue

It was only half past 7 in the evening, and a sort of cabin fever had already taken hold of Aozaki Touko. Renting exhibit space at the Asagami Conference for the Creative and Technical Arts had been a measure of last resort, after all. Although she normally preferred to let clients come to her rather than the other way around, money had been tight lately.

Despite its pretentious name, Touko could tell that this was a badly organized event: instead of using the building's large main hall, the organizers had crammed the exhibitors and attendees into the adjacent annex. This clashed with her architectural sensibilities, which told her that the annex made for a better dining room than exhibit space. Using it against its designer's intent converted its advantages—dim light and low ceilings that combined to produce an intimate setting—into distractions that grew harder and harder to tolerate with each passing hour. Perhaps enduring the heat, noise, and indoor smoking ban would have been worthwhile if the day had generated enough new business, but no such luck.

_That's the story of the times we live in. If I had exhibited here last decade, I could have met clients interested in breaking ground on an avant-garde apartment or office building. With the recession, though, the captains of industry only attend events like this to show off how cultured they think they are. Actually paying for the culture they're pretending to enjoy is never part of the equation. Registering under an assumed name and casting a precautionary ward around this place was a waste of time. _

Shaking her head, Touko surveyed her booth in search of anything that would keep her from making an early exit. She had brought quite a few items—too many, evidently—and paying someone to carelessly pack it all up again was out of the question. Several easels held up poster-sized architectural renderings based on some of her old, unused blueprints; bringing along actual photographs of her work might bring unwanted scrutiny to both Touko and her prior clients. The easels didn't pose all that much difficulty, though, in comparison with the bulky object propped up next to her on a scaffold. It was a doll, and Touko had intended to sell it to any buyer who came within an order of magnitude of her asking price. No one had even nibbled, though, so she would have to carry the unsettling thing back to her workshop.

It was not that it was poorly made—just the opposite. The problem was that she had begun crafting it without a firm vision of how she wanted the finished product to turn out, which in itself was a departure from Touko's normal creative process. In terms of basic concept, the doll began as a success: its feminine shape was appropriately lithe and lifelike, and its joints moved as they should. Yet after she had sculpted the face, when it was too late to make significant changes without undoing days of prior work, she realized that the project had taken an unwelcome turn. Pale skin, dark hair cut just above the shoulders, dark eyes, and an empty expression: these were the features of an old acquaintance that Touko had already half-forgotten. She disliked thinking about anything associated with her sister anymore, and the face staring back at her certainly fell into that category. As usual, she couldn't look at the doll without becoming introspective.

_The ancient Greeks would have categorized this doll as a mimema, an art object that imitates something found in reality. But the mimema does more than simply exist as an imitation cut off from any context: it engages its audience in the act of mimesis by stimulating the imagination. A drawing of a house brings to mind the viewer's own concept of "houseness" even though a physical house and the drawing share only certain properties; likewise, this doll calls to mind all sorts of images and associations depending on who sees it. It's bad luck for me that the dreams this doll conjures up aren't ones I like to revisit. The fortunate thing about the subconscious, though, is that someone else—hopefully with deep pockets—will look at this face and have a different reaction. _

As she was folding up her easels and stacking the renderings, Touko noticed two youthful faces that stood out from the largely middle-age crowd of conglomerate executives and their wives. They looked like high school students out on a date, which disqualified them as potential customers, but looking at their bright-eyed enthusiasm was a welcome change of pace nonetheless; as such, Touko took a break from disassembling her stall in order to observe the couple more closely.

As they drew close enough for her to hear their conversation, she reassessed her initial impression of them. The young man in the black turtleneck looked to be just past high school age, while his longhaired date looked to be around 15 years old. Actually, given that they weren't walking arm-in-arm and had somewhat similar features, they might not even be a couple after all. Perhaps they were cousins, or maybe siblings. Yes, definitely siblings.

"Mikiya, haven't we seen enough of the exhibits already? If we leave the main floor now, we can still eat a relaxed dinner without rushing. Take a look at the brochure: it says here that the terrace restaurant has a lovely view out over the water."

The girl looked upset: clearly, she had meticulously planned this outing from the start, and her brother hadn't gotten the message. _Well,_ Touko mused, _some siblings do have that kind of relationship. _

The boy looked over his glasses at the glossy pamphlet his sister had stuck under his nose. His good-humored expression soured slightly.

"Azaka, I'm sorry, but look at these prices. I can't afford to treat us to appetizers at that place, let alone a full meal. On the other hand, seeing the last of these booths is free...and educational. That's the real reason why you brought me here today, right? So that I would think about possible careers for the future?"

Coming from anyone else, those words might have sounded needlessly sharp. Even though he spoke with mild reproach, however, Touko noticed that the dark-haired boy hadn't really antagonized his sister at all. Although Touko could tell that the girl was normally a forceful person, her brother knew just what to say to make her back down.

"You aren't getting away from our dinner, but I suppose we can compromise on a meal at Ahnenerbe before you bring me back to Reien. It's less formal than I'd like, but it will have to do."

Her words were more a show of anger than anything.

_Mimesis again, though this time in the art of acting instead of sculpture. _

But the boy wasn't paying his sister's performance any attention; instead, his gaze was drawn toward Touko's exhibit. More precisely, he was looking directly at the Alice doll. He didn't seem to possess the net worth of her typical customer, but Touko was getting desperate. Even if he couldn't afford to pay, perhaps a fake customer could draw in a real one. Besides, there was no trace of the abnormal about him; engaging in a little harmless chitchat would be just that: harmless.

"If you're serious about taking her home, I've reduced the price. I don't sell many of this quality, and never to the general public. I was just about to close up shop, but if you need a little time to look her over or ask any questions, feel free."

Her smiling sales pitch was as pleasant as she could make it after a trying day, but the boy didn't hear a word of it. His face carried the solemn look of someone visiting a family grave, and Touko began to rue her bad luck: only one person at the entire convention was interested in the doll, and he seemed to dislike it just as much as she did. After an impolitely long silence, the boy's companion uncrossed the arms that she had been holding in front of her vest and lightly tapped him on the shoulder. When that didn't work, she stood on tiptoes, drew closer to him, and whispered in his ear.

"We're keeping her waiting, Mikiya."

With this, Touko noted in amusement, the boy once again became aware of his surroundings. He offered her a quick bow to make up for his inattention, and then introduced himself with an apologetic smile.

"I'm Kokutou Mikiya, and this is my sister Azaka. I appreciate the offer, but I was just window-shopping, I'm afraid. Since I'm on a student's budget, I do that a lot. Sorry if I've wasted your time."

At the mention of "budget," Touko saw that the girl named Azaka began to blush.

_Teasing these two won't help me pay the bills, but it _is_ fun. Let's see, what else can I say that will set Azaka off?_

"Oh, don't even worry about that. Really, it's payment enough to see a brother and a sister who get along so well with each other. The two of you are inseparable; oh, but you must get that all the time, don't you?"

Touko's cheery words had had their intended effect. Azaka was now amusingly red, and she looked ready to panic.

"Nii-san, I think you've seen enough of fine art and culture for one day. Ma'am, thank you for your time, but it's getting late and we really _do_ have to get going—"

"Already? Well, I'm sure that your brother has time for at least one question before you both rush off. That doll over there is a unique piece, and not necessarily in the positive sense of the word. What about it caught your eye, Mikiya?"

Mikiya closed his eyes for a moment and appeared to gather his thoughts. When he spoke, he did so without emotion, as if his mind were somewhere else entirely.

"Your doll reminded me of a friend of mine. She was injured in a car accident, and she still hasn't recovered. Even though she shouldn't have had permanent brain damage, the doctors said something went wrong during the recovery process after surgery. They operated, her wounds healed, but she still hasn't woken up. It's been a little over two years."

_After two years, the chances of his friend ever regaining consciousness are approaching a limit of zero. I pity him; it seems that I made a doll capable only of dredging up painful memories. _

Touko remained respectfully silent, her prior teasing obviously out of place at a moment like this. If this boy needed to get something off his chest, she saw no reason to stop him. He continued, this time in somewhat better spirits.

"That was a depressing story, wasn't it? What gives me hope, though, is that she hasn't aged a day since the accident. The physical effects of a coma are usually pretty severe, but my friend looks just like she used to even after all the time she's spent in a hospital bed. It's one of the reasons why I still visit her every month and leave a get-well card: when she wakes up, as unlikely as that sounds, I don't want her to feel alone. I even persuaded Azaka to write a little something in last month's card, too."

For the first time that day, Touko had found something truly intriguing. Evading the ravages of time for two years was a medical improbability for even the fittest of people; for someone two years into a coma, though, doing so bordered on the impossible. Perhaps Mikiya's friend had simply inherited some excellent genes; on the other hand, Touko could have stumbled upon a paranormal situation that fell under the purview of Garan no Dou, her detective side-business. With her curiosity piqued, she resolved to investigate the situation.

"It may be a long shot, but I do have some experience with cases like this. If you let me know your friend's name, I can take some time and look her over. I can't make any guarantees, not when—"

Mikiya didn't let her finish, instead jumping forward and clasping Touko's right hand with both of his own. He couldn't seem to contain his gratitude.

"I sincerely appreciate it! You don't need to do this much, especially for someone you've never even met, but you must be that kind-hearted of a person, ma'am. Well, I suppose that we aren't strangers anymore: you've met me right now, and you'll meet my friend when you visit her at the hospital, so it's fine. And if you do manage to help her, I know that her family would reward you for your trouble—"

Touko cut him off; it was a matter of necessity, really, since her hand had started to go numb.

"Before I can make arrangements to see your friend, I need a name."

Mikiya paused and returned to some semblance of calm, releasing his grip on Touko.

"Her name is Shiki. Ryougi Shiki."


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 1

Shiki awoke less than a week after Mikiya and Touko's chance meeting, prompting Touko to place her other work on indefinite hold. She didn't see it as an irrational decision: the Ryougi successor was the rare puzzle that combined thaumaturgy, medical science, and psychology. The mage visited her hospital room daily under the pretext of speech therapy sessions; during the evenings, she interviewed Shiki's family and friends to fill in the narrative gaps left by her patient's recalcitrance. Since Mikiya was the only classmate that Shiki trusted, most of Touko's interviews had been with him. In fact, Mikiya's number was currently flashing on her phone's caller ID screen.

"Miss Touko. Today is your last session before Shiki is due to be discharged, isn't it?"

_Mikiya may have a knack for the analytical, but he wears his heart on his sleeve where Shiki is concerned. Well, I can't fault his loyalty. If he hadn't asked a variation of this question yesterday and the day before, I might even find that trait endearing. _

"The last time we talked, ma'am, you told me that she was trying to come to terms with the absence of her other personality. Does she still believe that SHIKI died after the accident, or—"

To keep the conversation from becoming any more one-sided, Touko reined him in.

"Shiki hasn't found him asleep in some disused corner of her mind, if that's what you're trying to say. When I approached her with that possibility, she shot it down."

Touko heard the boy make a small sound. Could it have been a sigh of relief? In any case, she continued.

"Shiki's recovery may count as a medical outlier, but it didn't happen by chance. Because the Ryougi dynasty managed to produce another successor with a dual-faceted personality, Shiki had a spare consciousness to take the fall."

"Right, your composite independent personalities hypothesis. Although I like to think that I know Shiki better than most, I can't claim to understand what she's going through right now. All the same, I believe she can make it through this."

Touko could tell that Mikiya's concern was genuine, but words still gave her pause.

_This isn't the first time he's asked about SHIKI's disappearance; strange, since I didn't take him for the forgetful type. The mere fact that Shiki and SHIKI shared the same body can't be the issue. If it were, then Ryougi wouldn't have trusted him in the first place. It's as though Mikiya wants to be sure that there's nothing left of SHIKI. _

To put her suspicion to the test, Touko decided to gauge his reaction to a small joke.

"From the way you keep on asking about what happened to him, I wonder if it was for Shiki's or SHIKI's sake that you kept up your visits to the hospital."

Mikiya didn't respond, and Touko briefly wondered if the line had gone dead. When Mikiya broke the silence, he did so deliberately.

"I was there to see Ryougi Shiki, both halves of her. I owe her that much."

Touko continued to press the issue, since Mikiya's words indicated that he was still holding back something important.

"So you're saying that since you had no preference between SHIKI and Shiki. That's very egalitarian of you."

_He's bright enough to see a way out of the contradiction I've tried to build. The only way for him to slip up here is if the very idea of preferring SHIKI to Shiki is enough to distract him._

"Equally…no, that wasn't the case at the end. Of course I wanted her to recover: I care about her, and there were things I never had a chance to explain. Both Shiki and SHIKI needed to hear them. But if either Shiki or SHIKI had to die, then…"

Mikiya trailed off without finishing, an undercurrent of shame in his voice.

"Let's leave things here for today. We can talk more after the hospital releases Shiki tomorrow."

After Mikiya hung up, Touko considered his reaction to SHIKI's disappearance. His preference for Shiki over SHIKI was natural: the male half of the girl's _taijitu_ had been the one most closely associated with murder, and Ryougi Shiki was still a person of interest in the unsolved serial killings. Who could blame the boy for preferring the personality that suppressed abnormal urges instead of the personality that embraced them?

Touko pushed her spent cigarette into an ashtray, picked up her orange suitcase, and then grabbed the keys to her car. While her series of speech therapy sessions with Shiki was nearly over, she had one more private talk planned. That it would take place this morning was no accident. The spirits trapped inside the hospital had been sizing Shiki up as a potential vessel, and Touko knew that these entities were most active at night. Did Shiki have the willpower to resist them? Touko could not answer that question with any certainty, which was why she planned to arm Shiki with as much unsolicited advice as possible.

_My visits with her have been superficial so far: I asked Shiki about her dual nature, but that just made for a temporary distraction from the self-perception maze she's working through. We've been talking past each other without making progress. This time, I'll explain the situation to her bluntly: holding on so tightly to all that she's lost brings only paralysis. She has to recognize that the Mystic Eyes have opened some doors while closing others._

* * *

Touko's visit had left Shiki in a truly ugly mood, so she spent the rest of the afternoon and evening alternately racking her brain for insight into SHIKI's disappearance and dozing off to keep her lack of success from driving her crazy. The heavy steps of her attacker had interrupted one of these short naps. Judging from the unpleasant smell, the original owner of the body that was currently choking her had left this world behind some time ago, clearing the way for one of the hospital's mist-like ghosts to possess the empty shell.

As a member of the house of Ryougi, she could eliminate this threat without even pulling off the bandages that still covered her eyes: after all, losing SHIKI's memories had not affected her recollection of basic self-defense techniques. Even now, with oxygen at a painfully clear premium, she visualized the most direct method of escape: stiffen her left arm, tense every available muscle, and then shift her weight over to the right in a strike sure to shatter the reanimated corpse's chokehold. The lines of death that surely crisscrossed her attacker would allow a well-placed slash of her right hand to finish the job.

Though her limbs remained slightly sluggish from their years of dormancy, such a counterattack would pose little difficulty. Actually, the old Ryougi Shiki would have relished a chance like this: here was a perfectly packaged killing independent of the concept of murder, that threshold which she could cross only once. Yes, her departed male personality could have completely dismantled this second-rate monster.

_It's not just SHIKI who would have enjoyed it. I would love to kill this thing even now_, she reluctantly admitted to herself.

Yet Shiki struggled only halfheartedly, since her immediate circumstances—the attacker, the intensifying pain from her neck, and even the risk of death—struck her as desperately unimportant. More blood—too much, she thought without any sense of urgency—spilled from the cut on her neck and soaked onto her chest as the undead creature tightened its grip still further. Her time was short, but Shiki tried to remain conscious for a little while longer: she sensed that some logical connection danced just beyond her reach, an insight that could explain the debilitating disappointment that the false speech therapist had left her with several hours earlier.

Was this disillusionment merely a delayed recognition that SHIKI had really died? Speaking with that magician had drawn attention to SHIKI's absence. Shiki immediately discarded this possibility as she managed to gulp down half a breath of air: the disappearance of SHIKI made his memories inaccessible to her, true, and her remaining memories seemed more like those of someone else, but her disappointment stemmed less from the hollow feeling her other personality left behind and more from why he had died.

_Touko can say I'm a new person all she wants, but it's still bullshit. I can't just put on a big smile, turn my back on SHIKI, and go on living as if the accident never happened. He meant more than that, he died for more than that. I'd be better off dead._

Shiki stopped struggling entirely and willed her remaining energy to carry this train of thought through to the end. SHIKI's reasons for dying frustrated her, she knew that much, but with her memories of the accident still jumbled and patchy, she could not pinpoint the source of her discomfort any more specifically than that. Her mind had reached an impasse at the worst possible time. Thoughts were coming slower now, and the distracting burning sensation that filled her entire chest had long since replaced any pain from her neck. Time seemed to be moving slower too, in lockstep with her thoughts, but Shiki correctly recognized this as an illusion. She knew that the human body could not withstand this kind of abuse for much more than a minute.

_Huh, isn't that just hilarious? Because that idiot SHIKI went off and died for who knows what reason, I'll do him one better by dying before finding out what that reason actually was. You could spend a lifetime searching and never see a pair of deaths more useless than these._

A lifetime. A life's work. How a person chooses to spend their life. Whether a person truly has that choice. Synapses fired, and suddenly Shiki recalled a few of Touko's parting barbs from earlier that day, words that the older woman must have believed would shock Shiki into accepting her post-coma reality.

_"End of the line for your dream. Wake up! Open your eyes to my world, the secret world. You were meant to be here. The happiness of the everyday isn't for you."_

Touko had shown a cheerful, almost careless demeanor during her first few visits, but the woman's incisive honesty had finally shone through.

The exact details of that night two years ago remained hidden, but Touko's sharp words revealed the truth about SHIKI's sacrifice. Inheriting the Ryougi clan's idiosyncratic mental gift had always made it difficult to draw closer to others, a fact that once scarcely troubled Shiki. But in the months leading up to the accident, both halves of her personality had found it harder and harder to deny the indefinable appeal of simple human interaction. Somehow, this process culminated in SHIKI dying to protect his counterpart's chance to enjoy something beyond a grim, solitary struggle against her own nature.

The feeling of lying blind in a hospital bed faded away, replaced with a rapid succession of images from the months she spent befriending Mikiya. Eating cheap cafeteria sandwiches on the rooftop, listening to worries about Mikiya's troublesome little sister while waiting for her chauffeur, laughing at his off-key rendition of some hopelessly out-of-date foreign song—these mundane moments of togetherness shone brightly, yet they also had a certain aura of melancholy to them. Though pleasing, these memories did not seem like property of the current Ryougi Shiki; as Touko reminded her, Shiki had changed too much to live that kind of life again.

_SHIKI died for nothing, then._

_Why keep on living if I can't go back to the life I wanted? Dying here is a waste, but I can't give meaning to SHIKI's sacrifice the way I am now. It's impossible, and he should have understood that._

_That Aozaki woman was right about one thing, anyway: this is the end of the line._

Cursing her other half, Shiki sank into the darkness.

Touko glanced at her watch, which told her that 90 seconds had already passed since she first sensed an intruder breach the deliberately inadequate rune ward she had left upstairs. The mage had left Shiki alone after their talk earlier that day: ideally, the younger woman would have confronted both her inner demons and the hospital's body-hungry spirits, emerging all the stronger for it. Judging by the long delay, however, that outcome was far too optimistic. It seemed more likely that Shiki had given up, allowing the spirits of the hospital to claim her instead of trying to defend herself.

_I left it up to Shiki to decide: if she chose death, then it's her loss._

Yet Touko felt an unusually strong aversion to that possibility, a dislike that went deeper than a mage's typical impulse to research phenomena pertaining to the Origin. As she paced the first-floor hall, Touko asked herself if she felt some sense of responsibility to Mikiya, but she quickly saw the flaw in that explanation. As honest a young man as Kokutou seemed, he had not formally employed Garan no Dou in any capacity. In theory, Touko could leave Shiki and Mikiya to whatever fate awaited them.

_I'm overthinking this: money hasn't been my real motivation since the start._

Images held Touko's answer rather than words. She remembered long hair, fair skin, and above all, a pair of bandaged eyes that promised a hidden luster once unveiled. Touko wanted the girl to seize the unique opportunity that had befallen her; more than that, Touko wanted to witness that transformation take place. Obligation had nothing to do with it, nor did any philosophical ideals about the intrinsic worth of human life. It did not bother her that her motives blurred the division between altruism and self-interest.

"Tch. The best-laid plans…"

As Touko ran up the moonlit stairs to Shiki's room, she briefly wondered whether she or Shiki ought to shoulder more of the blame for their current predicament.

_On the one hand, when I told that girl that she could do whatever she wanted, it should have been obvious that I wasn't speaking literally. There was only ever one path for Ryougi Shiki, and she walked away from it._

_From a different perspective, I designed the outcomes of tonight's test without taking my own appetite for risk into the equation. Shiki could work through whatever was troubling her, or she would die; I considered the first potential to be the most desirable one, so I ignored the other options and risked more than I was willing to lose._

Still, although the mage had not expected Shiki to fail, coming up with a fallback plan on the fly was certainly within her power. Touko could handle most threats with her knowledge of rune magic, and the sinister-looking suitcase she was carrying contained another insurance policy. Of course, none of these measures would matter if Ryougi had already succumbed to whatever had broken into her room. As she took note of how many doors remained in the corridor before she reached the one belonging to Shiki, now close to three minutes after the spirit's attack began, Touko's self-recrimination intensified.

Why did I need to leave her alone if I wasn't sure how she would react to all this? I should have stayed closer to her, but I don't like helping people who aren't willing to at least meet me halfway—not for free, at any rate.

These doubts ran counter to Touko's task, so she shook them off before walking through the door that Shiki's undead attacker had already forced open. Touko surveyed the battlefield: only one enemy—good—but Ryougi was in obvious trouble. Undead hands were cutting off her oxygen supply, and between the blood on Shiki's clothing and the unhealthy color of her face, she looked significantly closer to death now than she ever had as a coma patient. The ghost had apparently failed to hijack Shiki's body so far, evidently finding it more convenient to kill off the body's original owner first.

The undead's chokehold meant that blasting the spirit away with rune magic might unintentionally harm Shiki at the same time. Releasing her portable cat familiar from its suitcase ensured a more precise kill but posed its own set of problems: even if Touko's taste for unusual familiars were not already well known, the shadow cat's rate of magical output would alert anyone watching to the presence of an advanced practitioner of the Art. The possibility of detection concerned her, since her long list of enemies began with the Mage's Association but by no means ended with it.

_Well, even if I end up regretting this later, blowing my cover is the only way to bail this foolish girl out of her own mess._

Since her familiar had the capacity to consume spirits significantly more powerful than this one, Touko limited her involvement in the fight to flipping open the latches of the shadow cat's projector suitcase and setting the container down by her feet. Unlike most magical attacks, which required constant inputs of prana, Touko had designed the shadow cat to be self-sustaining. As long as the projection device inside the suitcase continued to organize free ether clumps into an ordered entity, Touko's familiar could complete its task with no assistance from its master beyond the initial instruction to attack.

**"OUT!"**

Though the familiar had a basic feline shape, its smoke-like texture immediately identified it as a product of magic. The way it moved also would have seemed uncanny to anyone watching: gravity seemed to have only a marginal effect on the animal, allowing it to flow forward towards Ryougi and her attacker with an impossibly smooth stride. Aware of a serious threat despite its lack of sentience, the undead body lurched turned away from the rapidly advancing cat and dropped Shiki back onto the bed. It need not have bothered. The magical predator adjusted its trajectory, springing onto the ceiling before propelling itself back down claws-first onto the reanimated corpse. The familiar's teeth pierced their target before the ghost could mount any useful response. After what resembled a light snack more than an actual confrontation, the jaguar-like beast faded back into its case.

Efficiency this complete should have pleased Touko; instead, an uncharacteristic dread settled over her as she walked over to the bed and examined Shiki's injuries more closely. The younger woman had not responded at all when the undead creature released its grip on her neck, a grip that had obscured quite a bit of missing skin and bruising. Mikiya had likened the sleeping Ryougi to a doll; perhaps this doll was irreparably broken.

_Time for a reality check: her neck can heal, but cyanosis is evident from the bluish tint to her skin, and that implies cerebral hypoxia. Unless Shiki takes in more oxygen soon, she'll suffer brain damage._

Not wanting to touch Shiki's injuries if she could avoid it, Touko instead felt her left wrist for a pulse. It was weak, but present. With less enthusiasm, Touko noted that Shiki's chest was not moving at all, and a quick check revealed no evidence of breathing coming from her nose and mouth. Touko moved to the next step immediately, tilting Shiki's head back, checking for any airway obstructions, and finally beginning the process of mouth-to-mouth resuscitation. It did not take long before Shiki's chest shuddered back into motion; perhaps because Shiki was no longer in any immediate danger, Touko became aware of how soft the younger woman's lips felt against her own. The physical sensation reminded her of a different kiss from a lifetime ago: just as before, she was in control while her partner was defenseless. This crucial difference, however, was that Touko's intent this time was to help rather than to injure. Against her better judgment, she allowed herself one self-indulgent thought as she gently pulled away from the still-unconscious Ryougi.

_Under different circumstances, I might have enjoyed that._

As Touko made her way through the hospital's attached multilevel parking garage, she reflected on that night's rescue. The warm weight in her arms confirmed that it had not been a complete disaster: although Shiki's eyes remained closed, Touko had reached her quickly enough to prevent anything irreversible. The mage had also spent extra time disinfecting and bandaging Shiki's neck, though not before using a few drops of Shiki's own blood to inscribe the telltale X shape of the rune Mannaz on the sleeping woman's forehead. With this, Shiki's body could repair any minor aftereffects that oxygen deprivation had caused. What the rune could not affect was the obstinate self-pity that Touko identified as Shiki's most enervating personality trait, an observation that brought back all the exasperation of earlier that day. If carrying her familiar's suitcase and an unconscious companion were not a job that required both hands, Touko would have reached for the comfort of her cigarette pack and lighter.

_It's ironic. I spent years searching for the origin only to conclude that the search is a fool's errand: humanity has accumulated too much entropy, too much baggage, too many causes and effects. Shiki inherits a link to the Great Spiral naturally, and how does she react? Denial. Negation. If I hadn't already spent so much time on this case, I would stand back laughing and embrace the comedy of it all._

Still grumbling to herself, Touko reached into her pocket and pressed the unlock button on her car's electronic key, prompting a chirp from the red sports coupe at the end of the aisle. This was the prized Aston Martin she had purchased with funds from her work on the Broad Bridge blueprints. As she buckled Shiki in, Touko offered a one-sided remark to her cargo.

"If we don't do something about that attitude of yours, this will be the first and last time you enjoy a first-class drive like this. Do yourself a favor and remember this trip, OK?"

After placing the suitcase in the backseat for easy access, Touko backed out of her parking space and navigated her way toward the garage exit. She definitely needed to make up for lost time. No wayward ghosts or spirits had troubled her in the ten minutes following Shiki's resuscitation, but the fact remained that Touko's familiar had telegraphed her presence. Setting that threat aside for now, she then recalled a crucial fact that rescuing Shiki had temporarily displaced from her mind: another mage had already placed a boundary field on the hospital. Why had someone set up the field only to apparently abandon it? Touko had managed to slip through the field undetected, true, but Shiki's departure would certainly attract unwelcome attention.

_Bothering to protect a location with a complex boundary field implies that the contents of the field are valuable. Unless someone is hiding the Spiral of Origin in a storeroom back there, that field served to keep people like me from noticing Shiki and her Mystic Eyes. Yet this unknown mage, a skilled one given the field's composition, didn't interfere even when Shiki was near death. Either he or she badly miscalculated, or—_

Before Touko could react, a stocky man jumped out from behind one of the concrete pillars that lined each aisle of the garage. He folded sideways as the Aston's front bumper threw his legs out from under him, his torso smashing into the right half of the windscreen and his arm coming into violent contact with the side window. With her view forward through the cracked safety glass obstructed, Touko swerved into a concrete pylon.


End file.
